


angels descending

by DearTheodosia (DapperMuffin)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angel/Demon Relationship, Devils, M/M, Religion, but also questioning christian ideas at the same time?, but respectfully, unintentional religious commentary oops, vaguely christian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28330965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperMuffin/pseuds/DearTheodosia
Summary: Alexander is an angel. And John is a devil.As Alexander falls for the only one he's not allowed to love, he begins to question his purpose—and whether his love is worth leaving behind everything.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton & Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	angels descending

Alexander was an angel. And John was a devil.

Alexander had always been told not to toe the line, and, in fact, he'd always stayed very far away from it. He'd never questioned what he'd been told, never had a reason to. As far as he knew, God was just and He was fair, and so Alexander obeyed the rules set by his superiors, believing them to be for his own good.

But he'd had enough. In a fit of rage, he'd stormed to the line. Before he could even consider setting foot on the other side, he saw something that made him stop.

On the other side of the line was a tree, and a man. The tree was beautiful, its leaves green and full, but the man... he was nothing like anything or anyone Alexander had ever seen.

The man hadn't seen Alexander. He ran one hand along the bark of the tree, smiling as if he knew a secret Alexander didn't. He almost seemed to glow, though that should be impossible, and before Alexander realized what he'd done, both feet were planted firmly on the other side.

The man looked up, and, upon spotting Alexander, smiled a very different kind of smile. He held out one hand for Alexander to take. Alexander at first hesitated, but he'd already crossed the line—what more harm could it do?

The moment their hands met, the second their skin touched, a current of sorts ran through Alexander. Not an electric current. More like a feeling, one he couldn't place, one that was strange and frightening and exhilarating all at once.

The man introduced himself as John. His brown curls bounced when he shook his head, and Alexander knew there was no going back, even as he desperately reminded himself of the horns on John's head and the batlike wings on his back.

John reached up into the tree, and Alexander, spellbound, tracked his every move. John plucked a fruit from one of the branches, appraising it for a moment. He took a bite, savoring it before offering the fruit to Alexander. Alexander took it without a second thought, sure that if this fruit was worthy of John, it must meet his own standards.

He was blown away by the taste, and found himself making comparisons between John and the fruit.

When Alexander surfaced from his thoughts, John was much nearer than before. His surprise must have shown on his face, because John laughed, and Alexander was reckless. He always had been, but now he didn't even pause for a second before making the choice that he knew would change his existence forever.

John tasted good, and as Alexander's hands met his waist and John's hands moved to tangle in his hair, he shivered.

When the time came and Alexander had to return to his heavenly duties, he reluctantly pulled himself away from John, brushing aside the things that John's smirk made him feel. He made no promises to return, knowing full well that he shouldn't.

And yet...

And yet.

Over the weeks or possibly months that had followed—time is irrelevant if you're immortal—Alexander had found himself increasingly distracted. Distracted by thoughts of John, of the tree, of the feeling of freedom caused by the lack of responsibilities he'd only felt once, on the other side.

It had become harder and harder to work, and the moment he'd completed the day's work, he'd made his escape.

John had been waiting for him, for, when Alexander arrived at the place they'd met, there he was. Each time Alexander saw him, he'd smile.

Every successive time Alexander went to see John, he felt himself sinking deeper and faster. There's always a price to pay for sin, and that price is your soul.

It didn't go unnoticed by Alexander's superiors and co-workers that his wings were changing. Starting from the feathertips, they were blackening, darkening.

As Alexander examined his wings, he couldn't shake the feeling of disquiet. He'd known there would be consequences, hadn't he? Was it foolish to continue to see John?

And yet, he kept going back.

Alexander drew back from the kiss, away from John. "You asked me earlier if something was wrong, and I said no, because _wrong_ isn't the right word. But something _is_ bothering me."

"Is it your wings?" John asked softly. His eyes, as always, seemed to see right through Alexander and straight to the problem.

"Of course it is," Alexander scoffed, wrapping his arms around himself. Does the way John make him feel outweigh the underlying sense of having betrayed, of having _failed_ his purpose?

John smiled wryly. "That's what always convinces them to leave, in the end." He took Alexander's hand, and Alexander suddenly understood why John had always seemed sad, beautiful in his tragedy. "I'm not going to ask you to stay. I know how that ends." He fixed Alexander with those eyes that, despite the youthful appearance typical of an immortal, betrayed his melancholy decades. "That choice is yours. I wouldn't hold it against you if your very purpose was more important than me."

Alexander had to leave. He had to think, at a distance. He kissed John goodbye before returning to his residence.

What was he to do? On one hand, there was John, who had already suffered so much heartbreak. But he was a devil, and Alexander was an angel.

On the other hand, there was his purpose. He was an angel, and while he was in no way one of a kind—God wasn't lacking in those who could do His work, wouldn't miss Alexander if he left—completely abandoning everything he'd been taught, the very reason he'd come into existence, would be like losing a part of himself.

He wished he could talk with someone. Surely voicing his thoughts might help him put his priorities in order. But no one would understand. They would look at him strange, tell him he's a disgrace, a sinner, and report him to his superiors. If Alexander was reported—well, suffice it to say his existence would be painfully and abruptly cut off.

Without making the conscious decision to travel to the line, he found himself staring at the tree from the side of the line he knew was objectively right. At first he felt disappointment that John wasn't there, only a woman he'd never seen before. But then he noticed the woman's wings. They weren't veined and batlike but like his—except hers had completely lost their original white color, having succumbed to the corruption. He had to speak with her.

She hadn't acted at all surprised when he introduced himself. She was Eliza, she told him, and she once been like him. Her halo was warped and sat at an angle as it floated above her head. She listened patiently to Alexander's story (and his questions) and then, only then, she told her own.

Eliza had once been an angel. She'd gotten curious, had approached the line without any intention of crossing. But there had been a woman sitting in the tree, a woman with long, silky dark hair, eyes that made Eliza feel many things at once, and a pair of devil wings. She hadn't spoken, hadn't tried to coerce Eliza over the line; no, that Eliza had done of her own free will.

Around Maria, Eliza had felt things she'd never experienced before, and though she'd always been a careful person (always thought things through, always been thorough) these new emotions had overridden any semblance of logical thought.

She and Maria had an illicit love, much like the bond Alexander shared with John.

Eliza had a family once—well, not a family, she'd corrected herself, angels don't have blood relatives. But they'd been like sisters, the three of them. They would never have understood, definitely wouldn't have accepted it. And so she'd had to choose between freedom and purpose, love and family.

And, well, Alexander could probably tell which side she'd chosen.

Her sisters still came to visit her sometimes, never crossing the line. She'd been right. They didn't fully understand her decision, but she was still _family_ , and that wouldn't change so easily.

The moment she'd finished her story, Alexander had posed several frantic questions—where was Maria now? were they still together? and most importantly: was it worth it? Eliza had laughed at his enthusiasm, but Alexander was serious, and she quickly became solemn.

"Yes, we're still together. And yes." She smiled. "It was worth it."

Alexander bade his new friend goodbye.

He returned the next day, but John never came. He'd stood alone by the tree for hours.

Nor the next.

Nor the day after that.

Alexander had let out a sigh of relief when he arrived at the tree and John was finally, _finally_ there.

"Well?"

That was all John had said, but that was all he _needed_ to say.

Alexander couldn't hold back anymore. He told John everything. How he was scared, but he trusted John. How he was choosing to walk away from the life he'd had, from everything and everyone he'd ever known. How John made Alexander's breath falter and his heart skip a beat every now and then. How Alexander wasn't going to be just another being to break John's heart. How he was going to be the only one who had chosen to stay.

John hadn't spoken. He looked at Alexander. He wasn't as skilled with words, and Alexander knew that, but his eyes showed exactly how he felt. Alexander had taken John gently into his arms and held him close.

Alexander was an angel, and John was a devil, and they were in love.

And they were happy.


End file.
